Perhaps it doesn’t matter: In the era of too-much-TV-referring-to-much-other-previous-TV-to-keep-track-of, has the measure of a good TV show become simply whether you keep watching or not? Success is just success, right? It’s unclear what else could serve as a concrete marker in this sea of programming. Only you can decide, viewer: Is the tail wagging the dog? The shocks and twists become the characters, and just as you recover from one gasp, another intercedes there are enough plot lines that Willimon can keep batting the viewer back and forth like worn shuttlecocks. But like the Great and Influential Show Mad Men before it, all of the “characters” feel increasingly defined by the bullet-point actions they are assigned to carry out, not anything external. Only the truly dastardly can play the long game as well as the Underwoods.Ī lot of the show’s psychological depth is meant to be provided by the other characters in the ever-winding ensemble. Apparently, this terrible twosome is driven simply by an insatiable need for further power and control, and their schemes are pushed to the point of complete logical unfeasibility for the sake of showing how dastardly they can get. We watch their obscure machinations unfold, and sometimes, we get a little spiel recited into the camera about the whys and wherefores. We follow a supervillain around, or, depending on how you count, two of them. House of Cards continues to be essential politico- noir camp masquerading as, perhaps, something else: the Next Great and Important Television Show. It’s a lot of kinetic motion, yet so often, it feels like it is just treading water to stay alive.įans of ‘90s thrillers starring the likes of Ashley Judd and Harrison Ford should appreciate Beau Willimon’s approach best. Its unique, opiatic power recalls the work of Christopher Nolan: Like his movies, House of Cards showrunner Beau Willimon and his team throw as much intrigue in as fast as possible, before you have a moment a good hard look at how it fits together - or process how ludicrous the premises are. What is it about this dimly lit, cheaply made little show? Why was it the sparkplug to the revolution of streaming-service original programming? House of Cards is four seasons in and at least three past being good, but remains eminently, poisonously watchable. You paused House of Cards for a few minutes, dealt with your obligation, and crawled back immediately afterwards. The water boiled the Seamless order came your mom called.
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